Wonderland

  Little boys, on other hand, were so much easier. John-John came bounding out of the kitchen, a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand. He’d picked off all the mushrooms, because some kid at day camp had told him mushrooms were a fungus, and that a fungus was like a disease.

  His face lit up when he saw her. “You look nice! Where you going?”

  “I told you already. Jerry’s still in town. We’re going to have dinner and talk about work stuff.”

  “Can I come? I like Jerry.”

  “He likes you, too, but not this time, buddy. You’re going to stay home with your sister and eat pizza and watch movies. You be good and do what she says, okay?”

  He frowned and rubbed his head with his free hand, and his little face was so cute she had to refrain from kissing him. He was starting to squirm away from her kisses, which broke her heart. He was growing up way too fast.

  “Can we watch Batman? It’s on Netflix.”

  “Ask your sister. If it’s okay with her, it’s okay with me.”

  “Avie, can we watch Batman?” he hollered.

  “Yeah,” she said from the other room. “But you’re not allowed to talk during the movie. That’s the rule.”

  “Okay.” Turning back to Vanessa, he whispered, “She’s bossy.”

  “Yes, she is.” She laughed. “Bed by nine, okay?”

  “Why?” Her seven-year-old’s voice instantly took on a whiny tone. “Jaden gets to stay up till ten.”

  “That’s why Jaden has a hard time waking up for day camp,” Vanessa reminded him. “Remember how his mommy couldn’t wake him and he missed swim time the other morning?”

  “I guess. How come Avie doesn’t have to go to day camp?”

  “Because Ava’s a big girl and she has a job,” Vanessa said. “When you’re older, you’ll have a summer job, too.”

  “I wish I could be at Wonderland all day. I’m going to work there when I’m fourteen.” John-John said this like it was news to her. “I think it’s the greatest place in the world. But not in the Clown Museum like Avie. Too scary. I want to make the roller coasters go zoom. Jaden says his big brother is a roller coaster op’rator and he gets to push the button that makes it go and apparently it’s so much fun.”

  “The Clown Museum’s fun,” Ava called from the kitchen. “I get to dress up in a costume and scare people all day. It’s way better than wearing that fugly purple uniform like everyone else.”

  “What’s fugly?” Vanessa asked her son.

  “It means ugly,” John-John said. “But with an f.”

  “Oh.” Vanessa didn’t understand. It came to her a few seconds later, and she sighed. Fugly was teenage speak for fucking ugly. She bent down and gave John-John a kiss on the forehead. He managed to stay still while she did it, but just barely, and not without making a face. “That’s not a nice word. I don’t want you to use that word.”

  He squirmed away and went back to eating his pizza.

  “I’m locking the door behind me. I should be home around ten. Did you hear that, Ava?” she called.

  Her daughter had moved to the living room, where her voice could barely be heard over the sounds of the TV. “Yeah.”

  “I have my phone with me. Text or call if anything happens.”

  “We’re fine, Mother,” Ava said. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

  “You know what I’m talking about, Ava.” Vanessa’s tone was stern. They’d had another discussion earlier that day about her daughter staying safe at the park. “You know what I’m working on right now. Do not answer the door, and if someone calls, do not say that I’m not home.”

  “I know!”

  Vanessa took one last look at herself in the full-length mirror and fingered the bouquet of pink roses she’d placed earlier on the hallway table. Then she left, locking the door behind her and tugging at it to make sure it was really secure. She used to do the same thing when they lived in Seattle, and not in a million years would she have thought she’d have the same concerns in Seaside, the smallest, prettiest town in southwestern Washington.

  • • •

  The lights inside the Tango Tavern were low. Vanessa stood near the front entrance for a moment and scanned the room. It was maybe two-thirds full, and she didn’t see anyone she knew. All tourists, all people passing through. Which was why she’d chosen this place the first time.

  She had lied to her kids. She wasn’t meeting Jerry for dinner; her old friend had other stuff to do.

  Taking a seat at the bar, she ordered a Ninkasi IPA, always her beer of choice when it was available. She was halfway through it when the doors opened and Oscar Trejo walked in. Her heart skipped a beat, then began thumping painfully to make up for it.

  He was alone as he said he’d be, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He walked right up to her, ignoring the admiring glances that several of the female patrons were giving him. He looked good, and smelled even better.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Oscar said. “I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

  “Well, you’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” Vanessa gave him a small smile. “Three voice mails, six texts, and a dozen pink roses. I should have held out for the singing telegram.”

  “That would have been tomorrow, had you said no to tonight.” He grinned, sliding onto the bar stool beside hers. The bartender approached. “What she’s having.”

  A moment later they were clinking bottles. “To us,” he said.

  “I wasn’t aware there was an us,” Vanessa said. “Oz, I barely know you. You barely know me. We had a fun time here the other night, and that’s all it was ever supposed to be.”

  “Ouch.” Oscar pretended she had just stabbed him in the heart. “You are not the woman I remember from that night. She was a lot more easygoing than you are.”

  “She was also ‘Lynn,’ remember?” Vanessa played with her beer bottle. “Lynn, who didn’t talk about anything personal. Lynn, who wasn’t the deputy chief of police of Seaside. All I wanted that night was some company. As did you.”

  “I like you.” Oscar swiveled in his stool so he was facing her directly. “I don’t care what your name is. I don’t care what you do for a living. I like you. I know we just met. But so what? When I woke up the next morning and you were gone, I was disappointed, and I’m never disappointed. Usually all I feel is relief. And then when I saw you again, even though the circumstances were terrible, I can’t explain it . . . I was just so happy to see you.”

  He touched her arm. She flinched slightly, and he removed it.

  “I’m coming on really strong, I know that,” Oscar said. “But I have a feeling that if I don’t, you won’t take me seriously. And life’s short. I’ve wasted a lot of time doing things that don’t make me happy, and I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to do things that feel right. I want to trust my gut. And my gut tells me that if I don’t go all out trying to convince you to give me a shot, I’ll regret it. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford to have any more regrets.”

  Vanessa met his gaze. Every word he was saying rang true. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She was filled with so much regret, things she wished she could change, things she’d do over in a heartbeat if she could.

  But she couldn’t. In life, there were no do-overs. There was just right here. Right now.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to lay it all out, and I want you to listen, okay?”

  He winced. “That bad, huh?”

  “That’s up to you to decide,” Vanessa said. “I really have no business getting involved with anybody right now. My husband died six months ago, suddenly and tragically. We did not have a good marriage, not for a long time, and then he died, and it’s been hard on my kids, and hard on me. I left my last job on the verge of being fired because a boy I loved when I was a teen
ager grew up to be the Pacific Northwest’s largest drug dealer and he used our relationship to manipulate his trial, which was great for him because he got acquitted, and terrible for me because it tainted my reputation. I had to call in a favor to get this job, which involved a lot of begging and pleading, neither of which I enjoy or am particularly good at. I moved my kids out of a house and city they loved because there were too many bad memories there, because we needed a fresh start, otherwise we weren’t going to make it. I’ve had more one-night stands than I can count; one was during my marriage, and there’ve been a whole bunch since. The former makes me an adulteress and the latter makes me a slut, neither of which should be appealing to someone like you, who seems to be looking for something more profound than I’m able to give you. I don’t trust anybody, and in general, I think people are liars and cheaters, because I am, and it’s not fair to hold anyone else to a higher standard than I hold myself. I am about the worst person you could ever be with outside of a one-night stand, and if you were smart, you’d get off that bar stool and run.”

  A silence fell between them.

  “You done?” Oscar finally said. “Because that was a really great monologue and I wish I was as articulate as you, but I’m not. You think I don’t have baggage? You think you can scare me off? I wasn’t looking for your autobiography. I don’t give a shit about your past. We all have one. All I care about, all that matters, is how you feel. About me. Right now. Assuming you feel anything at all.”

  “I don’t know how I feel,” Vanessa said. “Mainly because I’ve spent a lot of years trying not to feel things, because feelings suck. But what I know is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night. That’s never happened to me, either. And all I want to do right now is stop talking, go back to your house, and get naked with you. That’s what I know.”

  He paused for a heartbeat, then said, “Don’t bother to finish your beer, I have beer at home.”

  He slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, took her by the hand, and led her out the door.

  • • •

  “I can’t stay the night,” Vanessa said to him ten minutes later. They were back at his place, standing face-to-face in his bedroom, both fully clothed. Unlike the last time, they were both sober, and the lights were on. “I have to get home early this time.”

  “Okay,” Oscar said.

  He stared at her a moment longer, then pulled her close and kissed her deeply, his tongue entering her mouth. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t exactly gentle, either; it was passionate, and urgent. Instantly, she was aroused. This didn’t feel anything like it had the first time. Even though they were still very new to each other, they were no longer strangers.

  His hands moved down the length of her waist to her buttocks, where he squeezed. Her hands found their way under his shirt, and she moved her palms across the small of his back to the little tuft of hair just above his ass that was pleasingly fuzzy. Their kissing grew more urgent, and she grinded herself against him.

  Suddenly he pulled back. “No,” he said. “I don’t want us to rush. We might not have all night, but there’s enough time for us to go slow. You said you wanted to be naked with me.” He took a step back. “So get naked. I want to see you.”

  Smiling, Vanessa pulled her tunic top over her head. In the soft light of the bedroom, his eyes feasted on her. She unstrapped her sandals, then hooked her thumbs on either side of the waistband of her leggings. Slowly, she inched them down. And then she simply stood there, dressed only in her bra and panties, allowing him to see everything he wanted to see.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

  She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting her breasts fall slightly to their natural drop. Her nipples were pink and erect, and he licked his lips when he saw them. Then slowly, she slid her panties down, allowing him to see all of her. She gazed back at him unself-consciously as his eyes roamed her naked body, pausing on breasts, then her navel, and then the part between her legs, freshly shaved in the shower an hour earlier.

  When he spoke, his voice was thick. “Lie on the bed.”

  She did as he told her, lying back on the mattress with her head propped up on his pillow and her knees slightly parted. He never took his eyes off her as he undressed, first unbuttoning half his shirt, then impatiently yanking it over his head. He slid off his jeans, and then his boxer briefs. He was fully hard, and she stared at him with longing.

  But before getting on top of her, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her down toward the end of the bed until her ass was resting on the edge. Spreading her legs, he dropped to his knees, and her back arched with pleasure as his tongue found her.

  She climaxed after only a couple of minutes, and then he stood back up and entered her. His climax wasn’t far behind. Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of her.

  “I wanted that to last longer,” he said, burying his face in her neck.

  “It was long enough.” She kissed his head. “It was amazing.”

  “Please tell me there’ll be a next time. I need to see you again.”

  “We have to be careful.” Vanessa stroked his hair. “I’m still working on the Blake Dozier missing persons case and the Aiden Cole homicide. Until it’s closed, I can’t be seen acting friendly with you. People will talk, and Seaside is a painfully small town, as I’m learning.”

  “What we just did was more than friendly.”

  “I could lose my job.”

  “I understand.” He paused for a moment. “So how close are you to finding Blake?”

  “Not as close as I’d like,” she said. “But there’s a good chance he’s dead. We’re working it like it’s a homicide, because that seems to be where the evidence is pointing.”

  “What evidence?”

  “I shouldn’t be talking about it with you,” she said. “I shouldn’t be discussing active cases, especially now that there’s a chance he was killed on park grounds. You’re the VP of operations. It complicates things.”

  “Not for long.” Oscar said. “I’m moving on soon. Bought a restaurant, going to fix it up.”

  “Wow.” Vanessa was impressed. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were moving in a different direction. I’m sure the park will be sorry to lose you.”

  “Maybe. But there are big changes happening over there, too. Bianca’s thinking it might be time to sell the park. But keep that to yourself, okay? Can’t let any rumors get out.” He touched a finger to her lips.

  “Mum’s the word. But can Bianca make that decision? I thought it was her uncle who owned the park.”

  “He does. But at this point, it’s in name only. He’s nothing more than a signature. Bianca makes all the decisions.” Oscar’s face clouded over, and then it cleared and he kissed her again. “So is there anything I can do to help you find the Wonder Wheel Kid? Or anything you need to know about Aiden Cole?”

  “There’s an arrest warrant out for Glenn Hovey,” Vanessa said. “And we’re getting a search warrant for his house tomorrow morning. But keep that to yourself, okay? Can’t let any rumors get out.”

  “Mum’s the word,” Oscar said, and she smiled. “I’ve known Hovey a long time. We both worked together under Jack Shaw. Nicky, too. We’ve all had our issues because of it. Hovey especially, so I guess I’m not that surprised you’re arresting him.”

  “Did Jack Shaw . . .” Vanessa didn’t know how to ask, but he was the one who’d brought it up. “Were you one of his . . .”

  “We all were.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” she said. “And yet you went back to the park?”

  “We all have our way of dealing with our demons. Some people choose to run away, but we chose to face them.”

  “Shaw died before it could go to trial, right?”

  “In a fire. House burned down. Ruled an accident, but I don’t think it w
as,” Oscar said. “Jack Shaw hurt a lot of people. A lot of people would have wanted to hurt him back.”

  “And I don’t suppose you know who might have done it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “If I did, I wouldn’t tell the deputy police chief. The bastard had it coming. Everybody was relieved to see Jack Shaw dead.”

  “Karma.”

  He shook his head. “Justice.”

  “So is that why you’ve never fired Glenn Hovey?” Vanessa asked. “All that history you share?”

  “Nicky believed wholeheartedly in loyalty,” Oscar said. “Mind you, I don’t know what he’d think about it now. Hovey’s definitely gotten weirder over the past few years, especially since Nicky’s been gone. Nicky was always the strong one, the rock. Bianca tries, but she’s nothing like her uncle. She has her own demons. She’s the one who keeps Hovey on.”

  “You think Hovey could be a murderer?”

  “Couldn’t anybody?” Oscar said.

  Just like that, an image of her late husband’s bloody head flashed through Vanessa’s mind. The gun, hot and smoking, in her hand. The weight of John’s raging threats still hanging in the air, her terror of him hurting her giving way to an even deeper fear as she realized what she’d just done. The screams inside her chest building quickly, trying to claw their way out, but she couldn’t make a sound, not even a peep, because John-John was sleeping in his room on the third floor of the house. Frank Greenberg, John’s best friend, coming into the garage at that exact moment, understanding immediately what had happened, and understanding that Vanessa hadn’t had a choice, and that her going to jail was the last thing her kids needed after everything they’d already been through. Frank helping her position the scene to look like John had accidentally shot himself, which officially made him an accessory. Her kids believing that their dad had been careless while cleaning his gun, while everybody else secretly thought it was a suicide. Which, considering the way John had been behaving, it might as well have been.

  But technically, legally, it wasn’t. It was a cover-up of a cover-up, a lie on top of a lie. Vanessa knew all about demons, oh yes, she did.